


Play Pretend

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Incest, M/M, Porn Battle, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:31:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suppose Aniki didn't laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Adult for smut; features brothers who love each other an awful lot. For Porn Battle XII, prompt "fantasy." 1700 words.

Yuuta cursed puberty and its concomitant hormones roundly, reeling off oaths in his head until his inventiveness gave out on him. It didn't do much about his problem, though it did make him feel a bit better, so he added himself into the mix, too, castigating his own stupidity for agreeing that a family vacation sounded like fun, of _course_ he'd be happy to come along on a parentally-subsidized trip to the hot springs. Yeah. _That_ had been smart.

He thought some harsh things at Aniki, too, for good measure. Not that it was technically Aniki's fault— _he_ wasn't really involved in any of this, was he? Which was approximately half the problem, truth be told—but blaming things on Aniki was an old, comfortable habit.

Yuuta grimaced into the darkness, because that wasn't helping—he shouldn't have thought about his brother, who was sleeping barely an arm's length away, completely innocent of the trend of Yuuta's thoughts. Innocent of causing them, too, except for the fact that he'd been there and Yuuta was sixteen and apparently obsessed with Aniki on all possible fronts. Damn it, anyway.

Thinking about Aniki wasn't doing anything to distract his cock, either, which seemed just as happy with a catalog of all Aniki's faults as it had been when Yuuta had been thinking about the way water had beaded on Aniki's skin when they'd been in the water earlier, or the sound of hedonistic pleasure Aniki had made when he'd first lowered himself into the springs. Stupid, oblivious Aniki, who did these things without realizing what kind of effect they might have on impressionable younger brothers. Stupid Aniki, who'd gone right to sleep an hour ago, practically as soon as they'd turned out the lights and good fucking grief, why hadn't he thought about the fact that "family vacation" was going to mean sharing a room with Aniki?

Yuuta made another face and turned onto his side, gingerly, curling around the throbbing heat of his cock, and thought wistfully about how nice it would be to have just a little bit of privacy.

Aniki sighed in his sleep, breathing deep and regular, and Yuuta sank his teeth into his lip to keep himself from moaning in frustration. Privacy would be _great_ just then. Better still would be for Aniki to wake up and push his blankets aside so they could curl up together, like they had when they'd been little, before things had ever gotten complicated.

Yuuta closed his eyes, chewing on his lip—what was he _doing_? That wasn't the helpful kind of thought, not at all.

It persisted nonetheless. They'd used to love vacations like this, where each day had ended with the two of them sharing a small room with each other, and usually Neesan, who had her own concerns and ignored them, lofty with the differences in their ages—and it had been the best thing in the world to spread out his futon next to Aniki's and curl up with him to spend half the night whispering together.

He wondered whether Aniki ever thought about doing that—probably not. He was sleeping the sleep of the just tensai, hadn't even offered to talk after they'd turned the lights out. He probably would have just laughed if Yuuta had suggested putting their futons together. Too many things between them now for that, besides the obvious fact that it would be a terrible idea.

Yuuta couldn't help imagining it anyway, how warm Aniki would be and how they would have to put their heads close together to hear each other (even though Neesan wasn't actually here to be disturbed). They could talk about anything like that, with the dark to make it easy: maybe he could explain why he'd had to leave and Aniki would be able to understand what he meant by it. Maybe Aniki would tell his secrets in return, the things that made him smile like he knew something no one else did (that smile that Yuuta hated and loved, because it was Aniki all over). Maybe they could trade secrets, one for another, until they understood each other liked they'd used to.

Yeah. That would be nice. Heck, while he was imagining things, he might as well go for broke—suppose he told Aniki all his secrets, even the one that had kept him tense all day, careful not to look too long in his brother's direction and reeling off irregular English verb conjugations in his head to distract his hormones. Suppose he told Aniki and Aniki didn't push him away, or worse, laugh.

Suppose Aniki didn't push him away. Suppose he said Yuuta's name instead, the way Yuuta had been trying to get him to do for a long time—like he was surprised and pleased, like Yuuta had done something that had made him honestly happy. Yuuta closed his eyes, conjuring up the way that might sound floating through the darkness, stirring the air against his cheek. Suppose Aniki said his name and... and reached for him, pulled him closer so that they really were cuddled together just like they'd used to.

The ache of wanting twisted inside him; he curled in on himself more tightly, biting his lip and telling himself that he was being an idiot and not quite able to stop himself in spite of that. What if Aniki pulled him closer and soothed away all his fears, just like he'd used to do before Yuuta had realized that little brothers weren't supposed to let that go on forever. What if Aniki pulled him close and wrapped an arm around him and promised that it was okay—that they could have this, too?

It would be too good to be true, that was for sure. Aniki would have to kiss him to prove it, would have to press their mouths together and show him that he meant every word of it, that he wanted this too. Yuuta passed tongue over his lips, imagining it, Aniki's mouth on his, Aniki's tongue stroking his own, how dizzy it would make him to have that. He would have to hold onto Aniki, just to be sure that it was real, that he wasn't dreaming it, until he'd convinced himself that he wasn't.

But kissing wouldn't be enough once he'd done that. Yuuta knew that much about himself for sure: once he'd been persuaded that Aniki meant it, there was no way he'd be able to help himself. It would make Aniki laugh, he knew that much—that fond, amused laugh, tolerant of Yuuta's foibles, but for once it wouldn't piss him off, not as long as Aniki let Yuuta kiss him and touch him, let Yuuta kick the covers off so he could unbutton Aniki's pajama top and touch his skin, all the finely drawn lines of his body that looked so deceptively slim. He would taste Aniki's skin, all the places where he'd watched water beading earlier, and maybe Aniki's laugh would catch in surprise. Maybe he would say Yuuta's name again, surprised and wondering, maybe he would lay back and let Yuuta touch him and get his fill of him (except that it was Aniki; Yuuta was pretty sure he'd never get enough of Aniki, ever).

Maybe he would even let Yuuta push his pajamas down and touch his cock and then it _would_ be real. Yuuta bit his lip, imagining it, the feel of smooth skin hot under his palm and Aniki's breath coming faster, the way Aniki might stuff a fist against his mouth to keep from making too loud a sound as Yuuta pumped him, slow at first to see what Aniki liked, then faster as he figured Aniki out, listening to him until Aniki gasped under him and came apart. He'd taste Aniki then, just to know that part of him, too, would press against him to feel the slackness in his body and the way his voice would sound after he'd come, whispering Yuuta's name.

And then—might as well go with it; Yuuta took a breath and reached down, sliding his hand under the waistband of his own pajamas—Aniki would press him back and kiss him again, slow and lazy, while he reached down to where Yuuta's cock would be achingly hard. He'd know just where to touch, how tightly to grip and how to slide his thumb over Yuuta's head. All it would take would be a few easy strokes and Yuuta would be— _there_ —

Yuuta hissed through his teeth, a shudder rocking his entire frame as orgasm throbbed through him, pleasure wringing down on him and then leaving him empty and embarrassed after. He listened, trying to keep his panting silent, but Aniki's breathing stayed slow and steady.

Well. That had been stupid and risky.

Yuuta sighed, considering the mess in his hand, and slipped his covers aside to go down to the bathroom to clean up. No doubt about it, he was the world's biggest idiot.

 

Shuusuke opened his eyes when the door had slid closed after Yuuta, cutting off the soft light from the hallway, and sighed out the breath that he'd been controlling with no small difficulty as he'd listened to the soft, furtive sounds of Yuuta's breathing and movements. That had been—surprising. Yes. Surprising. Somehow he'd missed that Yuuta was getting old enough for such things.

Missed it. Forced himself not to notice. They were nearly the same thing, weren't they?

Shuusuke turned himself over, wrapping the blankets around himself, fisting his hands in them. It didn't matter, either way; the decent thing to do was to continue as he had, letting Yuuta assume he was asleep, and to forget the whole thing. Yes. That was what he would do, because that was the only thing he _could_ do when there were so few things Yuuta would accept from him these days.

Shuusuke closed his eyes and laughed silently at himself for assuming that Yuuta would _ever_ want that kind of attention from his older brother. He knew better than that.

There were times when Shuusuke really missed the days when things between him and Yuuta had been simple.


End file.
